Blessed are the souls
Away from lure or greed
Master of wits ruling them
Lost in godly rupture as though
Not existing in the sore globe
Praises deity for his grandeur, curses not
Living easy world’s splendor it heeds not
Void of worldly pleasure yet kings of all
Unmoved by flattery no censor make him fall
Divine beauty kindles true love’s ecstasy
All ever inexorable meet, pain is lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem